


Discoveries

by wawaicedtea



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: M/M, also michael is trans in this, and abusive parents, but just know in your heart, its not explicitly described or even mentioned tbh, its not too graphic but its there!, meaning death of a family member, that michael is always trans in my writing, warning for mention of rich's family life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-12-08 17:50:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11651643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wawaicedtea/pseuds/wawaicedtea
Summary: Rich made a lot of discoveries that summer.





	Discoveries

He'd discovered a lot of things over the course of that summer.

 

Summer after graduation meant immediately moving out of his dad's place, out to an apartment he'd gotten with Jake, whose parents were sending money every month. They'd found some business down in Argentina, and as an apology for the whole "Sorry we've been MIA for two years, but we're avoiding prison", they'd started sending him money for college and an apartment to share with Rich, who, after hitting eighteen, finally got access to the money left for him after his mom passed. It wasn't a ton, but he was making sure his dad didn't see a single cent of it. It was all going towards rent and his place with Jake, which was cheap and shabby, but it was theirs.

 

Jake was used to living in a nice house with, like, furniture and shit, but Rich had grown up with much less. He was thankful for a bed, his own room, and the ability to call someplace "home" for once.

 

It didn't hurt that having his own place meant he could have friends over whenever he wanted. Jake took advantage and immediately set a routine of hosting a party every Saturday, getting back to the swing of things. And those were fun, no doubt. Rich loved getting high, singing bad karaoke with his friends, loved the high energy and rush he got at parties.

 

But during the day, when he wasn't getting turnt with his newly graduated friends, he was out exploring.

 

Life had been chaotic for the past five years. And now that things had calmed down, now that he had a place of his own, he was finally able to just sit down and explore. Most of his adventures were for himself-- he'd pick a new hobby to try every week, just to test stuff out, just to see if he was secretly skilled in anything. A lot of them were flukes. He was shit at singing and painting, and when Christine tried to show him how to knit, he nearly stabbed himself with the needles. Which was pathetic, actually. Ever seen knitting needles? They're dull as shit. It was embarrassing. Turned out though, Rich wasn't too bad at cooking. It was kind of fucked up, but following a recipe was really soothing. It was just following instructions, putting all your trust that it'll work out in the end, and being pleasantly surprised when it comes out delicious after you follow the recipe perfectly.

 

Michael mentioned at one point that it might have roots to having had a squip for over a year. That following directions like on a recipe felt comfortable because Rich was used to just following instructions. Rich replied with a "Thanks for the therapy session, babe," but couldn't deny it probably had some truth behind it.

 

Rich's exploring was also happening in therapy. He wasn't to into the idea at first, but after junior year, most of his friends had started seeing a therapist to deal with all their shit. After graduating and finally being free from his household, he figured it was about time he actually faced all the shit he was avoiding dealing with. It led to some pretty intense discoveries, but it wasn't all bad. And what was bad was made up for by the arms he got to sleep in at night.

 

Michael's parents had weird rules about the two of them dating and being together, and during school they'd had to sneak around for a while as they couldn't chill at Rich's place, and they had to be practically five feet apart any time they were at Michael's. When Rich and Jake moved into their bro pad, though, Michael found a third home: Rich's bed.

 

And those were his favorite discoveries of the summer. He'd found out that Michael was allergic to pineapple, that he used to have a pet rat in middle school. He's discovered the way Michael sleeps with his feet sticking out from the covers, how he curls up into a ball when he's sleeping, how when he wakes up the first thing he does is rub his eyes, before he ever opens them. He liked brushing his teeth before eating breakfast, and then always went back to brush them again after wards. Rich had discovered every inch of his body, too. The few dark freckles on his shoulders, the scars on his leg from the time he got bit by a dog, the indents behind his ears from wearing glasses too tight. Every inch.

 

"Morning, sunshine," whispered Rich, watching as Michael, on cue, rubbed at his eyes before fully waking up, reaching over for his glasses on the nightstand and putting them on before opening his eyes. As if the first thing he wanted to see when he woke up was Rich's face in HD, and not blurry shapes obstructed by his crusty eyes.

 

And the first thing he saw waking up was Rich, in HD. And a still-sleepy smile spread across his face. "Morning."

 

Rich reached up, brushing Michael's hair out of his face. He'd discovered after the first night they slept together that Michael's hair always flattened down when he slept. It was kind of funny, almost looking like a bowl cut, but often got in the way of his eyes.

 

"What time is it?" asked Michael, not looking away from Rich, who stole a quick glance at his phone before turning back to Michael.

 

"Half past ten," said Rich.

 

"Perfect, that gives you two hours to mentally prepare yourself for Dr. Franklin."

 

Rich rolled over onto his back, groaning. "Fuck, I forgot that was today."

 

"Every other Wednesday," reminded Michael, rolling onto his stomach and sliding in next to Rich. Another pleasant discovery was when Rich realized how perfectly they seemed to fit in with each other. Like puzzle pieces.

 

"Yeah, every other fucking Wednesday." Rich sighed, laying an arm across Michael, pulling him in closer. "Can't I skip this week? We could just stay here forever. Watch some shitty movie. Eat garbage. Fuck."

 

"Tempting," said Michael, though as soon as he sat up, Rich knew he wasn't giving in. "But it's a twenty dollar fee if you cancel." When Rich sighed in defeat, clearly not any more motivated than before, Michael added, "Hey, I thought these were helping. Aren't they?"

 

"Yeah, I guess," Rich said into his pillow. "They're just also fucking exhausting. I don't want to have another crisis and have my whole day ruined because I had to cry over another stupid thing from my life. I just want to stay here. With you."

 

Rich felt Michael lean down to place a soft kiss to his forehead, urging him to sit up. "How about this: you start getting ready and shower, and after your session I'll be in the parking lot with chinese food and a freshly rolled blunt, and we can head straight back here?"

 

"Tempting," said Rich, though as soon as he sat up, Michael knew he'd given in. "If you promise to wear no pants, you've got yourself a deal."

 

Michael pulled him in for another kiss, then lightly shoved him towards the bathroom. "Get showered, you smell."

 

"It's the pheromones," said Rich as he got up and headed for the shower.

 

\--

 

"How have you been feeling?" It was the same first question he heard every session. Kind of cliche, and Rich never knew how to answer.

 

He generally just shrugged. "Good." He leaned back on the couch, eyes trailing to take notice of the decor so he wouldn't have to look his shrink in the face, but he'd done that so many times in the past two months that he practically had the room memorized.

 

"Have you been in contact with your dad again?"

 

"Fuck no," spat out Rich, a little shocked at how forceful he sounded. He cleared his throat. "He tried calling on Saturday, but I was at a party. And before you ask, I'm not calling him back. He's probably just gonna be a dick again. Not even gonna apologize for the shit he pulled when I moved out."

 

"Do you want him to apologize?"

 

What a stupid fucking question. Of course he did. "Yeah."

 

"And what do you want him to apologize for?"

 

Rich shrugged again, feeling like he was going to dislocate his shoulder if he kept doing so. "You know, for the whole-- the fuckery he pulled when I moved out. I mean, he really expected me to stay living with him forever so he could keep on mooching off my paychecks and screaming at me when he gets drunk." He laughed dryly. "You know what's funny? The first time I came home to Jake day drinking, I nearly shit myself. He's not even a bad guy when he's drunk, he's, like, super flirty and hyper, but, you know, everyone gets more easily pissed off when they drink. And he's just chilling on the couch with Chloe and Brooke, all of them drinking just to drink, just 'cause it was a Thursday and what else were they gonna do-- and I come in, and I said something about Michael coming over later. And Jake made some bitch comment about how Michael's always over, but, you know, not mean or whatever. But I guess I was pissed off from work so I said some shit about how Jake always has some new girl over and I have to deal with that, so he might as well deal with Michael being over, and at least we don't make so many gross sounds. And I don't even remember what the fuck Jake said, just that he kind of shouted it, probably didn't even realize he was being loud because was, you know, drunk and shit, and I got kind of taken back. Like, drunk people yelling just sets me off, you know? So I just said 'fuck you' and went into my room, and I'm, like, pissed off. Like really pissed off. And mostly pissed off that I got so scared and shit, you know? Like, it's Jake. He wouldn't hurt a fly. But he's tall and did a shit ton of sports and I could smell the beer on him, and--" Rich realized at this point that he was talking too fast, and that combined with his lisp probably made it pretty hard to understand him.

 

He started again. "Anyway. The point is, is that the next day I catch Jake in the kitchen, and I'm so ready to just avoid him, but he stops me. And he apologizes. And that was, like, the first time someone had ever apologized to me for yelling when they were drunk. Like, the first time someone said 'hey, I didn't meant to do that and that was shitty of me to do.' My dad's been an alcoholic for ten years, and not a single time has be ever said he was sorry for being shitty. That's fucking hilarious."

 

His shrink gave him a stupid sympathetic look, then said, "Sounds like you want your dad to apologize for more than getting mad at you for moving out."

 

Rich slumped back in his seat, and shrugged again. "I guess."

 

\--

"Hey, how was--"

 

Michael couldn't finish his question before Rich leaned across the car seat to press his lips against Michael's, really going for it as soon as he entered the passenger side of the car.

 

Michael pulled back, keeping Rich at bay with a hand when he tried following with another kiss. Then, pursing his lips, Michael said, "That bad?"

 

Rich sighed before slumping in his seat, closing the door and putting his seat belt on. "Would appreciate it if we could make out instead of talk about it. I literally just spent a half hour talking."

 

"She diagnose you with hypersexuality yet?" joked Michael as he pulled out of the parking lot. Rich didn't laugh. "Sorry. I thought your sessions were helping."

 

"They are," grumbled Rich. "That's kind of the problem. Is that they are."

 

"You've lost me, Rich."

 

"I mean it sucks, and it always pisses me off, but I always end up finding out just another aspect of my life that sucks ass. I know I've got a ton of unresolved shit to deal with, but I'm tired of thinking about my dad and how much he's fucked up."

 

"Yeah," said Michael, not really knowing what to say. "Your dad's out of your life, though. You don't have to worry about him anymore."

 

"You mean I shouldn't have to worry about him anymore." Rich crossed his arms. "Can't wait til I get the phone call that they found him dead in a ditch somewhere," he said under his breath, hoping Michael didn't hear him.

 

He did. "Rich."

 

"What? It's true!"

 

Michael shook his head, concern drawn on his face. "You've got to be the only person on the planet who wishes they were an orphan."

 

"Probably."

 

\--

They fit so neatly into each other, Rich with his head laying on Michael's chest, engulfed in strong arms and the signature Mell smell. Rich took this moment to explore some more, grazing finger tips across Michael's side, trying to memorize each stretch mark, how soft his skin was. It was one of his favorite hobbies he'd discovered, actually. Screw cooking and sculpting, his favorite thing in the world was moments like this. Laying with Michael, the only thing on his mind being endorphins and the feeling of bare skin on bare skin, and the nagging feeling that no matter how close they cuddled, it would never feel close enough. He wanted to get rid of the molecules between them.

 

He made a note in his head of a new discovery, a new thing he loved about this moment: the moment when, as he rested his head on Michael's chest, feeling it rise and sink with every breath. And for a moment, the two of them felt their breathing sync up, as if breathing from the same body. And Rich discovered something new he loved.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!!
> 
> this isn't my best work LOL but i wanted to explore rich some more, and ofc i had to slide in some expensive headphones in there lol
> 
> anyway thank you for reading!!


End file.
